Break What's Already Broken
by Cleo Burton
Summary: Draco’s heart can only take so much. Perhaps an evening out can help him forget this most recent heartbreak. Total fluff, some agnst, no smut. Inspiration from the song How Long by Hinder


1**Break What's Already Broken**

_Some Fluffy drabble_

_Pairing- Harry/Draco_

_Timeline-Post-Deathly Hallows, pre-epilogue_

_Summary- Draco's heart can only take so much. Perhaps an evening out can help him forget this most recent heartbreak. _

_Authors note: Cedric and Fred aren't dead because I said so! _

"_**Why'd you go and break what's already broken? I've tried to take a breath but I'm already choking. How long 'till this goes away?"**_

_**Hinder- How Long**_

Draco sat in his pristine flat in an uptown and rich wizarding community. He pressed his forehead against the cool window, feeling the hair in front of his face press upward. Andie was dead. Pansy was probably never going to speak to him again. His parents went into hiding as soon as Draco was accepted into the Auror offices with open arms. He had just gotten home from a very long trip to Romania to break up a Vampire coven that was causing some issues. Since the downfall of Voldemort , things hadn't been quite as exciting as before, but he was kept busy. He stared at the bag that was still packed with a sweatshirt strewn across the top. He yanked the sweatshirt from the bed and ran a quick comb through his platinum hair before grimacing at the rain. It was only sprinkling as of now. He stuffed his wand into the pocket of his jeans (a colleague had gotten him into them) and swept out of his house with unconscious grace.

There was a smoky little pub at the corner of Fifth and Winchester. It was a muggle neighborhood but a wizarding bar. The rain had become heavier, and his normally flawless hair was wet around his face with the texture of wet yarn. He got under the awning used his hawthorn wand to put his soft, fine hair back into perfection. He pushed the oak door gently and sat himself in a quiet corner alone. A waitress came over to him, her blue hair so short in the back it was almost a buzz, but the front was long and wispy. She had the most stunning hazel eyes and her smile was a perfect double curve and her body was long, lithe, and soft looking. Too soft, and her eyes weren't quite green enough and her lips looked too rounded. Who was he comparing her to?

"Hey, handsome," she said with a smile. "Can I get you something?"

"Scotch on the rocks," Draco said, surprise probably painted on his face. He usually didn't drink scotch unless he was depressed… usually about relationships. He sighed and buried his face in his hands.

Draco got some interest from one girl. She was very pretty, with long, wavy, magenta-streaked, black hair and crystal-clear gray eyes. Yet, she still held no interest from him. None of the pretty girls in the bar even caught his eye. None of the girls had long enough hair, their eyes weren't green enough, or expressive enough, their lips were too soft. Who was he comparing them too? What was happening to him!?

Suddenly, a loud group came into the pub and the blue-haired waitress scowled at them. They were tracking water and dirt onto the hardwood floors and they were causing quite a ruckus. Draco ducked his head even lower when he recognized them.

Cedric Diggory, a graduated Hufflepuff, was holding hands with a boy Draco did not recognize. Upon closer examination, the burly, sandy-haired boy became Oliver Wood, the ex-Gryffindor Quidditch captain. Ron Weasley was there, his bright red hair flowing long down to his shoulders. His blue eyes and freckles were even more predominant, probably from his trip to Greece a few weeks ago with Harry. His wife, Hermione, had her wavy brown hair pulled back by two golden combs How in the hell had Weasley managed to afford those? Fred and George Weasley were also there. George seemed happy enough, but Fred was wearing a black sweatshirt and his head was dipped low. George's hair was cropped short with buzzed sides and Fred had grown his hair out long and shaggy.

Finally, the one person who Draco didn't want to see caught his eye. His black hair was so long, it obscured one of his bottle green eyes and the lightening scar over his left. His glasses were far thicker and more squared off than when they had been in school. Harry Potter raised his eyes from his Firewhiskey and caught Draco's eye. Draco immediately dropped his silver eyes with a blush. A blush? Wait a second… ah. So that's it.

OoOoOo

Harry cocked his head to the side in a dog-like manner. Why had he blushed like that? Admittedly, Draco had been far more civilized since he had been employed in the Auror offices, but he had never ever blushed before in Harry's presence.

"Ah, I see."

"What?" Harry asked.

"I saw that," Hermione said with a smile, pulling her comb out, flicking her hair back, and replacing it. "He's totally in love with you. I had seen it since the first day, but I was never sure." 

Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye to Draco, sitting alone. If he went any deeper into his scotch, he was going to need a snorkel. What was wrong with him? Granted, Draco probably took the death of Andie, Harry's twin, a little harder than Harry had. Harry plucked up the courage to cross the room and say hello. He grasped a glass of liquid courage in his shaking right hand, drew his shoulders back,

"Hey, Malfoy," Harry said with a slightly shy smile.

"Potter," Malfoy said without looking up from his glass.

"You look paler than normal," Harry said bluntly, plunking into the chair next to Draco and resting his ankle on his knee. "Where did the Ministry send you?"

"Romania," Draco said shortly. "Transylvania."

"So you are the one that dealt with the Vampire problem. Not really your normal Auror stuff, but at the very least you got to travel."

"The weather was dismal," Draco said with a shrug. "If it wasn't raining buckets, it was cloudy, windy, and cold. Awful place..."

Harry laughed. Only a few people had known that Draco preferred the heat and sunshine of Greece and the Mediterranean. Draco was always in a downright cheery mood when he came back from assignments and vacations in the area, his skin with a healthy tan and his hair a soft golden glow, bleached by the sun and salt of the ocean. The minister was being intentionally malicious when he had sent Draco to Romania, one of the coldest and most sunless places in the world. Draco had held a good-natured grudge against Harry and Ron for getting the trip to Greece over him.

"Well, Greece was fun, but they think that a hurricane was brewing, so we didn't get a whole lot of sun."

"Your ginger friend had me fooled," Draco said petulantly.

"Oh, Ron?" Harry asked. "He got more freckles from his recent excursion with Hermione to the lake. As you can see..." Harry held out an arm the color of alabaster for proof.

Harry had noticed a piece of blonde hair had fallen into Draco's eyes. He gave into the urge to tuck that piece of blonde hair behind Draco's ear, expecting to get a look that would have probably made Voldemort himself cringe in fear. But those beautiful silver eyes closed in contentment. Harry set his glass on the table and reached across the small chasm of space that seemed to be shrinking to touch two fingers to Draco's long, lean jaw. He gently turned the beautiful face towards him, the thin blonde hair falling over his eyes with the beauty of perfection. The lucky bastard probably never had to use a comb ever!

But what surprised Harry was the warm yet haunted look the gray eyes contained. They were so beautiful, it made his heart leap. They smoldered like silver fires but sparkled like crystals. He had never known the gem-like quality of Malfoy's eyes, but that might be because he never looked close enough.

"Mal... Draco?" Harry asked, feeling weird at using his first name.

"Yes?" Draco was equally surprised.

"Care to come to my flat with me?" Harry whispered, almost sexily, in Draco's ear. "I promise, it will be completely platonic."

Draco had to agree. Not only was it sort of a dream come true, he had nothing better to do. Besides, how bad could it possibly be. They went out to the sidewalk and into an alley. Harry grabbed Draco's arm and _disapparated._

Draco was impressed. They had landed in Harry's living room. A Persian rug cushioned a leather sectional to protect the hardwood floor beneath. They were currently on a raised platform that ran down a long hallway. The whole room was done in attractive earth tones; mahogany floors, wine-colored walls, cherry doors, and a deep wood on all trimming and frames Draco could not identify. The rustic brick fireplace was currently unlit, but a quick burst from Harry's wand changed it. The side tables were a tad cluttered with candles, books, and framed photographs, and a white desk that should have contained case files or something was occupied by an expensive stereo, which Harry turned on. Draco recognized Chopin's Nocturnes almost immediately.

"Join me on the sofa?" Harry offered.

Draco almost immediately complied. Despite its rough appearance, the sofa was soft and comfortable. Harry stretched his legs out over the long, protruding section, a vision of ease. Draco balled himself up, tucking his knees to his chin. He rested his cheek on his knee and turned away from Harry, sighing.

"Draco?"

Harry's soft voice and tentative fingers on the back of Draco's neck brought him to the sheer reality of the situation. Harry carefully turned Draco's face towards him again, like he had in the pub. But this time, Draco freed one of his hands and laced his fingers with Harry's.

Harry looked into the deep silver eyes, his hair and pale face looking golden in the firelight. Harry blinked a few times before setting his glasses on the coffee table. Draco's breath hitched at the sight of the wide green eyes that seemed to glow in the firelight.

"Potter," he said softly, looking down. The old saying _if it's too good to be true, it probably is _was fast coming to mind. He had trouble forming a coherent sentence when Harry's lips parted like that. He finally managed, "Why?"

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Draco?" Harry asked, hoisting himself onto his knees and sliding his other hand up to cup Draco's shapely cheek.

Harry began to memorize Draco's face with his fingers. He ran his hands slowly, softly across Draco's forehead. The silver pools closed in contentment. Harry began to run his fingers all up and down the other boy's face. It was bliss and magic all in one as Draco felt Harry memorizing his face.

"Draco," Harry almost moaned. When Draco opened his eyes, he nearly flinched away at the sudden closeness. Harry's beautiful, molten green eyes were so close he could see the small blue striations along the outside of the pupils that were dilated with passion. "I've wanted you... for so long. But if you don't want me, then I give you the freedom to walk out the door and never have to see me again outside of work."

Harry freed himself, untangling his fingers from Draco's long, soft hair.

Draco thought for but a second. He knew the consequences of both choices. If he chose to walk out of there, then he would never have another chance with Harry, and another may get their hands on him. However, if he chose to stay... that was another story. It would be different, and he would probably have to deal with a few months of sidelong glances and leading questions. But one look at the agonized and passionate look in Harry's eyes, and Draco knew he didn't care. He closed the space between them in a few short slides.

"I am here of my own volition."

Harry's joy was apparent in their molten kiss.


End file.
